Being Rodney McKay
by Chris4Short
Summary: From PreSGA Rising on, McKay tells of his journey to Atlantis and how he is adjusting to Atlantis.
1. Chapter 1

_Being Rodney McKay - this was started back in 2006, and because I am a bit odd, I managed to loose bits around my computer and on thumb drives. Thankfully I had the presence of mind to send it to some friends, who inturn, sent it back to me because I managed to delete it. SO, this is a WIP, starting from pre-SGA Rising 1, to ... well however far you and my muse want it to go! _

* * *

I was stepping back on good ol' US of A, America, Land of the Home and the Brave, May Amber Waves of Grain, From Sea to – anyway, I was stepping back on American soil when I realize that I may not have turned off the gas stove in my rented apartment back in Moscow. It was, however, too late to relay any sort of message since as soon as I remembered that small, yet quiet insignificant, detail, my helicopter transport that I was just on, lifted off. I look down around my feet; my bags, thankfully, are surrounding me. The Airman must have been kind enough to place them none to carefully while I was worshiping American soil. I should have gotten each of their names. 

As I am trekking the tarmac, trying not to let my curses of the Military ring too loudly, I realize that I had also forgotten to forward my mail back to the states along with forgetting to turn of the gas. So, in all probability, not only would my rented apartment explode the next time Dr. Hivens struck his match near the place, but my mail would also go up in smoke. I really am glad I had asked for my last check in person. Now all I had to do is watch the 7pm news, and glance curiously at the others who would be sharing my table and make some passing comment like, "Oh that's a shame. I would hate to be the one who left the gas on," and eat… what would I eat? Hamburger. God save us all when the Russians start taking it into their minds that they can open a chain of hamburger joints.

Finally I yank the door and shoved my four pieces of luggage into the air-conditioned hanger/waiting room on another Air Force base, only this time in San Diego, California, USA. I look around at the passing and waiting airman and other people in uniforms - really they start to look alike – and suddenly know nothing had changed. I wonder if she has changed. Still the cute, dumb blonde. I think I may have spaced out (no pun intended – I crack myself up sometimes) because I am startled when I felt an urgent tap on my shoulder. I looked over to whomever was thinking they could touch me, and there she is. Living colour. Breathing and as beautiful as ever.

"Major…"

"Colonel," she says, cutting me off. For once I don't mind a woman cutting me off; she has this quality to her voice.

"Oh. Ok, it has a ring to it. Colonel Carter. Sam. Colonel Sam," I say as I just stand there. Suddenly the long trip, and my relative exile to Russia are made okay, as the sun seems to glow around her. Her blonde hair is chopped and curled slightly; I should tell her that she does not have to make herself pretty on my account, but no words spring to my lips. A man, who is now standing in the doorway, blocks the sun, disturbing the glow around her.

"Dr. McKay," one rather buff archeologist says from behind the blonde bombshell of my dreams.

"Dr. Jackson," I managed to say decently. He needed to move – he is blocking the light. Is he checking her out from behind? Did I really see him sweep Colonel Sam up and down before returning his rather unsettling gaze back on me? The nerve!

"Grab your bags, McKay, we have a transport waiting," Sam's melodic voice says. God I need to turn on my recorder and record that voice. It sends shock waves through lesser men; it sends the resonating joy of my superiority in brains and has a strange effect over me as I take in her beauty and other womanly qualities. I realize, quiet fully, she could also kick my ass should she know I think such things, especially toward her. Really, I am innocent. I am sure Peeping Danny has the same thoughts. I swear he gave Sam another once over glance as I, once more, trekked across the tarmac carrying my own bags. There has to be rules against such things.

We board the new transport, thank God not another helicopter, me once more left to drag, tug, push and pull my luggage on my own. Honestly, who is in charge of the service around here? I can pay 2 rubles and have my luggage hauled from one end of Russia to the other if I wish. At last some nondescript airman – aren't the all airmen? – stowed my stuff safely. He was glaring at me. I did catch him muttering about "damn civilians". Obviously he does not know in whose genius presence he stood in.

I have heard some say I am conceited. I say no; I am Dr. Rodney McKay.


	2. Chapter 2

"Oh, oh!" I am struggling to find words to describe the intense comfort I have finally found on an American military transport. Cloth covered, cushy seats are enveloping my body, and I must sigh. Why must the helos have such hard seats? I'm sure our military would function much better with wonderfully plush seats such as these.

"Enjoying the seats, McKay?" Daniel Jackson's smug voice floated next to me. I opened my eyes and glanced at him – where is the Goddess of my soul?

"Yes, immensely. I was just thinking that the helicopters could use such nice seating. Honestly, if they are going to be transferring civilians, they really should think about upgrading," I said.

Daniel smiles. "I would not know, usually not on helo's myself."

"Yes, going through the Gate is much less stressful."

"Well, yes. But I was thinking more along the lines of when we are in need of transports here on Earth, we just call up the jets, or the nice shuttle planes we have," Daniel says, running his fingers over the arm rest. "They are very nice; I have not found a hard seat on any of them. Well, I better see what Sam brought along."

He gets up and leaves me sitting alone. I really do not like Dr. "I-opened-the-Gate-ergo-I-am-smarter-than-you" Jackson. He has some kind of… connection with the Goddess herself that I cannot understand. I think it has to do with close quarters. Oh if I could have a few hours with her, she would see that I am the better company. What does he know about backwards engineering, astroplane experiments and reactors? What does a linguist, archeologist and sociologist know about the ways of the Gate? Could he turn it on without reading the instructions? I could. Does he know how the time dilation effects of a black hole can cause – theoretically of course – a rip in the space/time fabric, and be able to show the theoretical equation of that? I think not.

I give the retreating figure of Mr. Smarty-Pants one last glance and pull out my book I am reading – another thing I am glad I grabbed before I left my Moscow apartment. "Neutron Stars and Their Birth Events," edited by Wolfgang Kundt. Granted it was published over ten years ago, but really the civilian knowledge of the stars had progressed slowly since then. I really found it quiet enjoyable to see the archaic views of the cosmos and correct them with my infinitely vaster information and knowledge. Nowadays, reading books is quiet laughable.

Finally we touched down in Colorado Springs and I receive some assistance. Apparently you have to survive three long distance plane and helicopter travels before you have someone else unload your luggage. I am, however, very unsatisfied how they handled my luggage. True it got to the military transport #4 – a Hummer at least – but I think once more it was not handled with the most utmost of care. Sam – the Goddess of my soul – did not notice anything; perhaps she was too busy thinking about how we could ditch the military – and Dr. Jackson – and discusses some real science. My topic: Why we were so attracted to one another and the applications of that attraction. I do enjoy that topic very much.

"So where are we heading?" I ask, looking at the Goddess. For a dumb blonde she does seem to have a vice grip on my heart.

"We are going to the SGC; there is something Dr. Weir wants to discuss with you," Sam says. I noticed she does not look at me, perhaps in fear she would suddenly want to jump me and cause the tiny military presents an unnecessary show of affection toward me. I did also see Daniel give another one of his half sweeping glances toward us. I need just five minutes with that half-wit… show him that's not how you treat a lady.

"Oh, very good, would so much like to see the inside of that again," I said. I would not betray Sam's and my secret love. I would act the part. God she is sexy in that military outfit. If that hem was any shorter…

"…But we are very excited that we even found this opportunity. It's the break we have been looking for," she was saying. I look at her. "But there are no guarantees, like most things in the Program. Dr. Weir thinks you are capable of leading this, well not leading, but…" she pauses. "Are you ok, McKay?"

"Um ya, just so fascinating when you speak," I smile. The look that crossed her face made me wonder for a split second if she would slap me for that comment. Her face settled into calmness, but her eyes were still stormy. Did I mention she is sexy as hell?

"I think what Sam was meaning to say," Dr. Jackson starts, "was that this mission could put you on some sort of map."

"Right, that's what I was responding to," I say bluntly. "On the map? What map?"

"We can't tell you that," Dr. Jackson responds.

"Can't tell me, or don't know?" I ask smugly. Yes, I realized it came out smug, it's a quality trait I posses.

"Can't." Dr. Jackson sat back and folded his arms. "At this rate, McKay, I am leaning toward sending you back to Moscow."

"You have no authority."

"No, but I do," Sam says, looking at me. "God, McKay, can you just shut up and not turn everything into some kind of challenge? We have enough to worry about; I don't want to have to worry about you mucking up another…" she stops. "I should have told Dr. Weir not to recommend you."

"Who the hell is this 'Dr. Weir'? Where is Colonel O'Neill?"

"General," they both say.

"General O'Neill? Some one made him a General?" I see the looks on their faces and hold up both hands, "Sorry, sorry. Why isn't he making the decisions?"

"He's… indisposed," Daniel says after a moment.

I snap my fingers. "The battle over Antarctica! He had to do something with that!"

"Yes, we all did," Sam says.

"And you are not 'indisposed,'" I note. I swear I hear her mutter "sadly" before the Hummer came to the outside guard tower. She quickly leaned over and handed the driver three badges. I already have a badge? Wow, they must be serious about having me here. Well of course they would; next to … nobody, I am the smartest person, and an expert in all things Gate. Sam maybe up there, but even she trails behind.

I'm thinking a calming green for my office.


	3. Chapter 3

I was not ushered to my private sanctum of quarters but am told – by Jackson no less – that Dr. Weir had wanted to meet me as soon as I came into the SGC. See, even this non-descript doctor wants to see me. It makes me temporarily forget that I have yet to sleep in the past 27 hours. 27 hours and 13 minutes to be exact. I don't do seconds.

I try to strike a conversation up – "The weather in Moscow sucks. Do you know they had asked me to do a research project on that before your urgent call came through? Good thing it caught me before I delved into my new project." – but to no avail. Jackson is ignoring me and seems content to stand between Sam and I. Maybe it was for our own safety, Lord only knows what Sam would do should we find ourselves alone… I smile as we glide down into the belly of the ex-missile silo. Oh she would be in trouble that's for sure.

We walk down the same drab gray walled hallways and up the same cranky stairs, into the same briefing room except there stood a rather un-manly figure before the window over looking the object I can open second to … well none really. Sam can tinker with it and Jackson may be able to translate it, but I can make it do tricks if I wanted it to.

"Dr. Weir," Sam says as we drew nearer to the chairs around the table. She looks fresh for having to clip down here before us. "This is Dr. Rodney McKay."

I shuddered slightly as she said my name. A name never sounded so sweet then when it dripped off her lips. I could kiss her but Buff Archeologist seemed to be in the way – again. Really he needs to learn not to block the Lady of my Heart from viewing her surroundings.

I wonder for the briefest of moments if I am acting like a prick. A few would-be girlfriends – poor substitutes for Sam, I might add – seemed to end their denial of love with some form of that word dying on their lips. But I do not dwell since Dr. Weir turns and I am stunned for a moment.

Her slightly curly, chestnut hair seemed to float gently from her face and her blue/gray eyes seemed to sparkle with some unknown words and excitement. Very pretty. Tall. On first glance maybe a bit tough, but confidant. I take her in and notice –

"Civilian?" I said out loud.

"Yes, I am a civilian. I'm Dr. Elizabeth Weir, an international relations expert for the government," she says, holding out a hand. She tries to show her power by giving my hand one of those shake squeeze handshakes. I pulled my hand away and mentally note I must get to the doctor to make sure nothing is broken. "Please take a seat."

I notice that Blondie and the Buff leave. Maybe I should ask for some protection. They disappear before I can do anything, and than I am alone with Dr. Elizabeth Weir. "So… " I start as casually as I can. I wanted to ask 'what the hell am I doing here?' but that may be slightly impolite, I mean I did just meet her.

"I had you called from Russia to ask you to join a team I am forming," Dr. Chestnut-Hair says as she too sits. "I was told that next to Colonel Carter you are an expert of all things Stargate."

"Well, yes I am," I say. No point in denying it, and if Blondie wants some credit, well I am in a good mood at the moment.

"Excellent. How much do you know about Atlantis?"

I blink at her for a moment. "Atlantis?"

"Atlantis."

"Well… according to the legends it was a city that was swallowed by the ocean, never to be found or seen again. People believe it is on Earth, but if people only knew what has been found on other planets, well maybe Earth would not be the home of every myth and legend," I smile.

"You are quite right," Weir says, pushing a dark blue folder toward me. "Atlantis is not on Earth. In fact, it is not in our galaxy."

"What? You found it?" I ask. "Well not you, _you_, but as in others. A general 'you' of sorts."

"Yes Dr. Jackson found Atlantis actually. General O'Neill has agreeing to let me pick my team to go on this expedition. I warn you though, Dr. McKay, there is a chance we may not be able to come back to Earth in the near future," Weir says, casting her eyes down for a moment. "It's the opportunity of a lifetime, and I have been told you enjoy such things."

"Yes I do," I say confidently. "I would love to see Atlantis and make it work – I assume it is dead and that is why you need my knowledge."

Weir smiles. "Of course."


	4. Chapter 4

I hum the 1982 hit by Thomas Dolby – She Blinded Me with Science – as Sam passes. She should know we don't have much time since I have accepted Weir's offer to go to Atlantis with her team. I wonder if the guard who seems to take 'escort' a bit too seriously would let me double back and let her have a few last lingering moments in my presence. I was about to do that when she came running past me, followed a bit too closely by Buff Archeologist. I never remembered him being a gym man. I wonder if Atlantis has a gym – did the Atlantians have a need to have one?

This leaves me thinking for at least the remainder of my escorted trip to the VIP rooms where I collapse in the plush covers and sank into a dream filled sleep of exploding mail and cigars in Moscow as helicopters patrol over head searching for Sam and I in the underground silo.

I am not awoken – the clanging of two very heavy metal objects resounding in my ear canal aroused me. Immanently I dive off my bed and take shelter by the side of my bed; Moscow is not known for its sturdy building construction, especially in wartime. I look around and notice I was miles away from the Moscow room I was provided, rather in a gray cell of sorts.

"Morning McKay!" a tall man said grinning from the other side of the bed. He sheepishly looks down at the pots he had clapped together and back up to me. "Well it got you out of bed didn't it?"

I glare at the man. I find my legs and heave myself into a standing position, facing this intruder who still held the pot and had the worst cowlick I had seen since my neighbors dog. I don't deem this worthy of my speech abilities; after all I could not be liable for what I may say. I notice the clock and groan.

"Yup," the man says, watching as I wipe sleep out of my eyes. "Dr. Weir is waiting for you. You must be important to stall a meeting with General O'Neill and the top scientists."

I grab a pair of pants and top blindly from the chair where I had thrown some last night. I race into the bathroom and splash some water on me, scrubbing my face to get the tiny drool spots off and jam my suddenly uncooperative body into the pants and shirt. I shave, brush teeth and curse the broken alarm. I would not be in this mess if it had worked!

"Shall we?" the man asked, opening the door. He is still chipper and I still hate him. He breaks into a laugh as my alarm goes off just as he shuts the door. "Still not used to military time, or is it that your still on Moscow time?"

I punch the elevator button a few times as he continues to laugh.


	5. Chapter 5

Dr. Weir is now sitting beside General O'Neill who hurries in just as I step into the room. So nice of him to join us.

"So nice of you to join us," he says. I give a half smile and grab a mug and fill it with black stuff I am assuming is coffee. I sniff it as I sit down – military coffee. O'Neill must have noticed since he quips, "Puts hairs on your chest. And gets you out of bed.

"Now, Dr. Weir, if you would please make the introduction of your team. This is Generals Kooner and Fox. Joint Chief of Staff, and than Mr. Henry Bushner is the President's personal aid to all things Gate," he says motioning to the other side of the table. The nod in curt military nods. "Dr. Jackson and Colonel Carter will be joining us soon."

"Thank you," Weir says as she stands. "This is Colonel Sumner, Major Sheppard" – the man who rudely awoke me – "and Dr. McKay." I expect more but then again, no one is sitting next to me. "They will be my advisors during the Atlantis Exposition."

O'Neill smiles and pushes all of us big envelopes. "Theses are the papers Dr. Jackson will be going over. The other packet is the legend of Atlantis. I am sure he will stress that what we know versus what you will find could be different."

"That was going to be my first point," Jackson says as he comes into the room, trailed by Colonel Sam, decked out in her blues. I see O'Neill wave a hand and Jackson smiles. "Thanks for the introduction too, Jack."

"Oh think nothing of it. Continue."

"Well if you all take out the first packet, you will notice that I have compiled the history of how we found the map to Atlantis in Antarctica a few months ago. My team and I have been speculating how much information was provided here on Earth. I think it will be more revealing once you get to Atlantis. Now quickly just to give you a background, if you flip to –"

He did not have time to tell us where to flip when a bright beam… beamed him away. Sam got up and turned toward us. "Asg-"

Well she was beamed away before she could say anything either. Everyone was looking around but settled their eyes on the now smiling General O'Neill. "Apparently the Asgards need the pair more then we do. I dismiss you all to look over the compiled work and then we will come back after lunch."

Everyone except me got up as he left the room. Leave it to aliens to mess up an opportunity to listen to Sam talk. Who cares what she was going to say.

I spent the next day flipping through files putting my "Rodney McKay" on papers until the pen ran out of ink. I briefly wondered if I should ask for a new pen, but as I looked at the rest of the 'qualified applicants' no more jumped out. I was starting to wonder if my crack team of Russians would be better equipped to go to Atlantis instead.

"McKay!" a happy voice calls out as I enter the mess hall. I turn and see that cowlick haired guy sitting with some other goofy guy. This one has a smile on like he won the lottery. If he's going to Atlantis, maybe he did.

"Isn't this great?" the young man asks as I sit down. I look down at my plate and the one in front of him.

"No, that is lemon chicken and I am deathly allergic to citrus," I say as I begin piling pasta salad into me. I don't remember the last time I ate today – must have been breakfast at least. I see his grin falter a bit and share a glance at cowlick boy. Where is Sam when you need a distraction?

"Well I don't know what the Atlantians ate, but I am sure our cooking staff will be able to help with your food requirements," Cowlick Boy says, smiling at me. "Lt. Ford and I were just speculating on what we will find. What's your thoughts, Doctor?"

"I have none," I say. "There is nothing to speculate on because there is barely any evidence that this gate address exists, or that this will work. Who knows, we may think we are stepping into another galaxy and WHAM we are dead floating in outer space. So no need to speculate on something that may cause our death."

"Excuse me, I need to make some calls," the man called Lt. Ford says. Probably going to call his mommy.

"That is very interesting theory, Doctor. Very interesting indeed," he says, nodding thoughtfully with a glob of mashed potato balanced on the end of his fork. "I would have expected some other answer actually."

"Oh? Like 'I think it will be grand – maybe even fun?' Well I do think it will be fun, just maybe not what you military folk consider 'fun,'" I say complete with the air quotes.

"And what do we 'military folk' find fun?" he asks.

I feel a challenge rising in his voice, and I poke my carrots for a moment, ready to defend my thoughts on the military and how archaic and backwards it all is when the doors swing open and in slow motion she comes floating in. Nothing is fluttering behind her, but the archeologist, whom is talking and gesturing wildly. He reminds me of a monkey when he flaps his arms about trying to find the words. He should stop not while he is behind, but just to stop. She is just smiling and talking back. The up side is that she was coming over.

"Dr. Weir wanted to let you both know that she is ready to assemble the whole excavation team," she says, looking at Cowlick and then me. I melt like my Jell-o.

In a way to chipper voice, he says, "Sounds good, let's do this thing, doc," and walks past me, following her back out the door toward the Gate room. Archaeologist is behind me and is smiling sadly.

"What?"

"Nothing, just thinking how amazing Atlantis must be. I mean it has been an Earth legend for the past 1500 years – before that even – and now we found it and people are going to travel to it. That is like a dream come true for most people. You really are lucky, McKay," Jackson says.

He leaves me waiting for the elevator as he catches Teal'c coming the other way. I stare at him, jabbing at the button. I am lucky. I am the smartest man alive and I get to go to the most coveted, lost city in the world – err this world at least. I am about to travel farther then even Sam, Goddess of my mind, has ever gone. Proves I am smarter and cooler then she is. I have Atlantis to look forward to. What does she have but tinkering machines and people asking her stupid questions?

As I am about to jab the button again, an Airman – I think that's what the stripe means – comes up to me and asks, "Are these the elevators that go down?"

I look at him and almost tell him these are the ones that go side to side – but than he may walk off in pursuit of the correct elevators.


	6. Chapter 6

Luckily for the entire world – this and any others I have, or will, come into contact with – we do not SPLAT. The Lieutenant who had come with Cowlick, ok so his name is really Major Sheppard, was smiling like he was looking at the most beautiful thing ever. I agreed. Atlantis is not much to look at; I mean it is a tall looking entry with an over looking balcony, but the darkness keeps the corners in shadows. The light-up stairs are an interesting feature. Sadly it only lights up after Major Cow-lick walks up the stairs. I resist going down the stairs and seeing if I can turn them off.

Up on the upper deck there are people already swarming around. I have to shove several non-technical people out of the way so they don't touch the objects. Obsessive people. Always wanting to touch things. I think I find the power to make something work and jab at it, but to no avail.

"Powers off?" Cowlick asks, coming over.

"Ye-" I start as the consol comes to life suddenly. "Nope. Got it on."

"You are amazing, McKay. No wonder you are here," he says, walking away. Ya walk away military boy. I can intellectually wipe you on the floor any day.

I turn back to my newly assembled team. "Ok, let's hook the stuff up." The computer geeks and techno-wiz's get to work taking out the laptops and running wire all over the place. The covers for the consoles are propped against the wall, out of the way so we can tap directly into the what ever it controls controller.

"Isn't this amazing?"

I look up and notice the man named Ford standing beside me. I am on my back, trying to sort out the fiber optic pathways so I can plug my computer into it so I can show my team how it's done. "Yes, amazing."

"I read that Plato was the one who started the whole Atlantis myth. Dr Jackson theorizes that he was an Ancient. Do you think we will meet one?" he asks excitedly looking around.

"I hope not. How do you know about that theory anyway?"

"Major Sheppard gave us all a copy of the Atlantis history that Dr. Jackson compiled for us. Didn't you give it to your team?" he asked scrunching his eyebrows together.

"That myth has nothing to do with our jobs. It is merely a nice bedtime story," I said, tangling another cord to the ones I had deemed were not working. Really this should not be taking so much time. I slip out from under the consol and look back toward Ford. "Look, Dr. Jackson may know what he is talking about when it comes to myths, but he is not standing here, and can't tell you what will really happen. No myth is going to help us. It certainly not connecting these things together. This is going to take me all day."

"I'm in!" a voice to my left says. I slowly turn to see a tech happily tapping on his laptop and making the consol light up. I threw my tools down, startling the techs and Ford. Yes, I stormed out like a little child. I am the genius, not some kid from Japan.

Humbly I ask the wiz kid, who becomes my next prodigy, to teach all the techs the art of Ancient hacking. I, in the mean time, walk the city, which is not very impressive since it's under water. I would smirk but one, no one was really around, and two the city was under water. And I was having no luck with bailing water. Major I-Turned-On-The-Lights walked around with me, thinking something would trip and start making the outside de-watered. Ok I know that is not a word, but when everything is going wrong and one can't sleep, stranded on an outpost and never to see the sun, one tends to become testy.

As I poke at the controls, I wonder what will happen I look at a few of my sensors and as we round a corner, I see a crowd up ahead. Fly-boy hits my arm and grins.

"Looks like a party. Maybe they found something."

Oh the brilliance I am surrounded with! I start cursing the ZPM and the fact we can't ever go back. I have a growing list of people I would gladly send back to balance the intellectual scales. I'm sure the Ancients never had –

"Oh my."

"Isn't it wonderful? I just stepped up on here, and it came on." A man with a Scottish accent is standing on a pedestal and practically bouncing in place. He looks around and back at the hologram that stopped my running conversation with myself. "It has a looping message. This is my second time around."

I look at him, Fly-boy, Dr. Weir and back at the hologram. It's on a roll about how the Ancients had to submerged the city, had to flee to the last remaining refuge, and how they always wished that they would be able to come back, or their decedents at least. I look around one more time; I feel sorry for the Ancients.

I'm about to add something actually intelligent to the quickly descending conversation when one of the techie looking people, who I must assume are in my group, comes hurrying in. He whispers something about 'failure,' 'water breach' and 'power failure' – in some order. I suppress the sudden need to scream like a girl and run away. I opt to tell Scottish man that, as fun a ride as it had been the first time around, we would not be playing the looping message a second or third time.

"We are using up terrible large amounts of power just standing here," I say as I am fleeing back to the control room. Maybe we should take what power we have left and try to dial Earth. Even Russia is looking more and more appealing.


	7. Chapter 7

Dr. Weir has the brilliant idea of listening to some other brilliant person – who obviously was not me, other wise I would not be saying it with such distain – and dialed a planet. I must interject, not earth like I suggested. Of course they decided it was fun to leave the wormhole going.

"Power. Power," I chanted, as I paced behind the control panel I watched as the power bar to Atlantis slowly dipped lower, lower and lower still. Gah! Did these people have no concept of power usage? It wasn't like we had another light bulb to plug in once this one went out!

"Dr. McKay?"

I look over my shoulder as I finish a few more dozen calculations on how we will die. "Dr. Weir."

"How long do you think…" she asked, leaving the ending of the sentence hanging. Smart lady; don't scare the others.

"Depends. If we keep dialing planets, we will have," I looked at my "How to Die" chart. Strangely 20 minutes fell under "I hope the surface isn't too far away."

I looked up and saw the underlying panic in her eyes. Sort of cute in a deer caught in the headlights type of way. "Then we would have 20 minutes left. But at this rate, we seem to be having something like catastrophic, emanate, failure already starting. I hope you packed your floaties, doctor."

The briefest of smiles graced her lips. "I am glad you are along for the ride, doctor."

She left me to continue working and the thoughts of my impending and inevitable death, with the life long regret of never telling Sam my undying love, seemed kind of small. Well until another blip on the screen brought me back to the reality that I did not have floaties, and I really was not glad I was "along for the ride" because in reality, I hate roller coasters.

Cocky military type figured they could find us a new ZPM, hence the power drain. So off went Colonel Sumner, Fly-boy and Trigger-happy, to one of the random Atlanitan database coordinates. Don't tell anyone, but I kind of hoped they would be ok. What? We really need a ZPM.

I'm scrambling around trying to wrack my already battered brain to think of a way to hook the ZPM we brought to the one that's slowly dying. Nothings springing to my mind. Weir is hovering in the corner, watching me. My team of whiz's are doing nothing to help me, and I am here, all alone, trying to get the power levels to stop dipping closer and closer to 0. I started biting my nails at 20, but now it's hovering around 11 I may as well eat my whole arm.

"Activation!"

I look up sharply and narrowly miss hitting my head on the consol I am working on. I am not hiding. I am working. On a serious problem. The 'gate has activated and there are people streaming through and …

"Oh my god! The gate is activated!" I say, pointing in panic.

"Yes, I know. I was told it does that sometimes," Dr. Weir says in this eerily calm voice. I turn back and notice there are more people coming through then went out…. Did Weir just mock me?

"We can't stand this power strain. We have barely enough for our own lives! They are condemned to die like us!"

Weir raises an eyebrow and says it was a necessary risk. We will find a way out of here. We will survive. Eternal optimists suck the fun out of panicking.

I am about to tell her all the horrid things that are about to come, when there is a jolt, a deep moan and something else. All I know is that I was back on the floor, on my knees, holding on to the controller and wondering if the stove in Russia was turned off, and if not, did it explode yet?


	8. Chapter 8

"It's bright," Gun boy says. Gee, it's a sun, ya think?

I look around and shield my eyes like everyone else. The jolt and moan was, after more calculations and some logical thinking, the fail-safe the Ancients were so nice enough to place on Atlantis and float the city to the surface like some… floating thing. I'd compare it to a feather falling but really it wasn't graceful and I am not in the mood to be chanting about waxing moons.

"Right, well, now we don't have to worry about the ZPM holding back the water, we have some more power to maybe get back to Earth."

"We have to go after Colonel Sumner," Cowlick says, jumping in front of me. "He is out there, captured by the enemy, and we don't leave our people behind. Besides, these people's home was attacked."

Hence they are standing around in our gate room. I look at Weir and over to Cowlick. He is staring at me as if daring me to say something. "Well we have the power now," I offer.

"It's too risky," Weir says slowly, meeting Cowlicks eyes. He is squaring his shoulders and I see a spark in her eyes… she is a lot like Sam, will not back down. Maybe this place isn't as bad as I imagined.

"We can't leave our men behind."

"We can't risk the enemy knowing where Atlantis is. We need more information about them."

"They have our people. They may be trained, but this enemy could compel them to reveal sensitive material. They may compromise Atlantis anyway."

I just stood there, feeling like I was watching a tennis match. Never much cared for the sport, but it seemed like a good analogy. Cowlick simmered for a moment while Weir stewed… only to have the barest of nods and the go ahead to spring to her lips. Sheesh, she could have held out longer. Cause now I am being dragged by Cowlick to my station and he is demanding that I look up coordinates for where the enemy has taken his men. I just want to go home. I mean, seriously, who wants to be working under a woman who gives up on an argument in five minutes? Sam, Queen of my Soul, has the record for being stubborn and unmoving… in fact she still hasn't given me an answer if she will go out with me.

"What are you smiling about?" Cowlick growls. I wipe the smile off my face and go back to pounding at the tiny keys and peering at the Ancient's version of a computer screen.

Hehe, Ancient, ain't it?

"You better be giggling because you solved this," Cowlick says. Geez, military!

"No, but I think these coordinates dead end into space. However," I quickly add, as I felt him grip my chair. "Those space jumpers you found earlier, I think maybe you can use them."

I beam as he slowly smiles. "You're alright, McKay."


	9. Chapter 9

Ok here is the state of things: Even so I find myself with tons of time on my hands, my muse ran away as soon as I found this time. So it's been hard to write anything, let alone the things I love - my fan fiction. So I guess this is my way of letting ya'll know why my updates have been so sparing. Sorry. I am in the process of Search and Rescue™for the Oh So Cute™ muse of mine.

Do continue to review, cause I know she likes it (and so do I) and keep an eye out for more updates. I may find myself very busy again, and that's usually when she comes home. :-D

* * *

I'll spare you the details on how I burned the coffee and made the new people who have come to stay with us laugh at me. I'll also rush by the parts where Weir was worried and claimed one of the piers as her own, and would be seen out there, gazing over the city. Also the whole bit of where Cowlick was missing for a few days. 

I found myself sharing a bite to eat with a Scottish Doctor, Carson Beckett. Very nice fellow, for a non-Canadian. He has a good sense of humour, but is prone to getting a distant look in his eyes when we discuss what we did and left back on Earth. I haven't mentioned I left a wonderful Lady of my Dreams who has yet to know the full extent of my love – no matter how I may actually abhor most blondes – the wonder that is… Samantha Carter. Carson, however, managed to tell me all his family history in one breath.

"I miss my mum," he sighed. Understandable. I think.

So after a rather relaxing time of chatting with the good doc, I found myself pacing the control room. I wondered how the Ancients could have padlocked a whole city down under the water for… a long time, and only have a few ZPMs operational. Ok, so maybe it wasn't exactly calculated in that we, Earthlings, would come and drain the power to almost extinction in a matter of a few days. But, sheesh, think how smart they had to be to even manage to sink such a huge city. Maybe Trigger-Happy Kid isn't so far off. Meeting an ancient would be cool.

Well anyway, Dr. Weir rudely interrupted me in my musings. Can I say rudely when she is such a good looker? Anyway, she stepped in front of me and made me pause. "Yes?"

"Dr. McKay, I need to ask you some things," she said, moving toward her office. I followed. "In the event of the worst case scenario, how long do you think we can keep our guests and the expedition on Atlantis?"

"Well we could use another ZPM, and maybe confine the newcomers to only already explored areas. Every time we wonder into another section, the city thinks it has to power it. My team and I need to figure out how to turn the systems off of the ZPM and into an alternate power source."

"You seem confident."

I looked at her for a moment. "Well I _am_ the head of the science and research department."

She nodded and I left. All that was left now, was to wait for Cowlick to come back.

* * *

Like all things, they came back. Minus one. Colonel Sumner, who wasn't very fond of me anyway, was the only one who lost his life on this first mission. I know Dr. Weir was hoping this didn't become a regular thing.

We all celebrated a mission well done, new friends and the fact we were floating above water. I am not particularly fond of treading water myself. However, the one thing that kind of dimmed the mood was that Cowlick's team had awoken some ancient enemy of the, um, Ancients. Really, the irony was not lost on anyone.

I stood on the balcony looking over the waters and realized that over all, the past week of them moving in, raising Atlantis, and even awakening the enemy of the Ancients known as Wraith, everything was going well.

I looked up to the sky and wondered what Sam was doing, and if she was looking at the Milky Way sky. Far from others. Alone. Thinking of me. Because I was thinking of her.

And my most likely blown up Russian apartment, because I am convinced I forgot to turn off the gas.


	10. Chapter 10

This starts at the beginning of "Hide and Seek"...

* * *

The next few days and weeks were a combination of exploring, getting settled and hoping no impending sensor of doom would go off. So far all indications are normal, for this universe anyway, and no one really worried too much. Well a few were always looking to the sky but really, the mass majority said it was fine, and since Atlantis had been sunk and the Wraith so far away the chances of them finding us so quickly was slim.

Still. Check the skies every time you are near a window.

Scottish Doc had been developing the Ancient Gene for the rest of us. Which meant, soon Cow-lick wouldn't be so special anymore. And who volunteered for the first therapy? Me. Yup, taking a leap, a chance, and the ability to turn on things with a wave of my pinky. I was moving up the food chain.

"Say still," Dr. Beckett said, bringing the needle closer to my arm once more.

"I really don't do needles," I replied, inching closer to the edge and further from the advancing needle.

"Well you wined about being bloody special all day when I asked if you wanted to participate in the gene therapy."

"I don't remember the part where you said you needed to inject me with a needle the size of a cow."

Beckett rolled his eyes and before I could protest once more, he stuck in the needle and injected me. "Now than, not so bad."

A warm rush came over me and I nodded slightly. I sat there in a daze for a moment and than his hand rests on my shoulder and pushed me back slightly. I felt my head hit the pillow and turned my head to tell Beckett that this felt great to be turned into an Ancient, when, brain muddled, I saw another needle coming toward me.

* * *

"But you _drugged_ me!" I said as soon as Drs. Beckett and Weir let me talk. I stood in the middle of Dr. Weir's office and looked between the two. "How can that be in the best interest of the experiment!"

"Dr. Beckett said you were uncooperative and felt he needed to drug you or forgo the experiment and since you had insisted, in not so flattering ways, I am told, that he gave you the injection, it was the only thing to do."

I looked at Dr. Weir for a second. "Well now that I have the gene, I may as well go back to my lab and see what I can turn on."

I walked back to my lab and on the way found Cow-lick standing in the doorway with a smug look on his face.

"What?"

"I heard you now have the gene," he said. Thank goodness he didn't say what I thought he would. "And how you had to be drugged." Crap.

"Ya go on and laugh. See, you're not so special anymore."

"Oh that just makes me cry," he said dryly. "But now, you can turn on things, they don't have to call me at 2 a.m. to do that anymore. Now I can tell them to get you instead."

"Right, well." I looked at him a moment. "They really call you at 2 a.m?"

He laughed. "Let's see what goodies you can turn on now."


	11. Chapter 11

I had been saving several interesting looking objects that looked like ancient only genes could turn on. With several of them on the desk, I went one by one and turned them on, documenting them, experimenting on them, and ultimately trying to figure out what they did, why the Ancients built them.

Day three found me tinkering with a pear shaped green thing. I figured out by reading the instructions that it was a personal shield device. Way cool. It turned on and after careful study, attached to my chest, forming some kind of bubble around me. I called Cow-lick, oh ok, I will call him by his real name, Sheppard. I called Sheppard to help me test the personal device.

"Well what do you want me to do?" he asked after I explained the instructions.

"I don't know, maybe threaten me with bodily harm," I said, shrugging.

Sheppard shrugged and tried to punch me. When I opened my eyes I saw him holding his hand, wincing in pain. It worked – I was okay! So he tried kicking me, same thing. Tried to throw things at me. Bounced off and fell on the floor. And then we got the bright idea of shooting me. Oh yes, if this could stop a bullet, move over Superman, Sam Carter I am coming for you!

"Wow," Sheppard said in awe. He looked at the gun, and at the still smoking bullet that lay at my feet. "I want one."

"Well, when we are done, we can see if Dr. Weir will let you use one."

"Sweet." Sheppard holstered his gun and turned bright eyes to me. "Hey I have another idea we can try."

* * *

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?"

I looked up to where Dr. Weir was yelling over the balcony. Sheppard stood beside her beaming. I have to admit, it was pretty cool to still be standing after being pushed off the balcony. I walked up the stairs and saw Dr. Weir was grilling Sheppard.

"Look, it was my idea," I said. Well not the throw me off the balcony idea, but the try to see if it works idea.

"To throw you off the balcony?"

"Well I shot him first," Sheppard supplied.

Dr. Weir looked like she was watching a tennis match. "You what? Wait, I don't want to know."

We smiled at each other and followed her into her office. I looked around for a cup of coffee, all the experimenting got me thirsty. Taking some, and giving a mug to Dr. Weir, I brought the cup to my lips and….

"Oh crap."

Sheppard and Dr. Weir looked at me. I stared at my empty cup and the liquid pooling at my feet. The device didn't just protect the wearer from outside harm, but also from the ability to introduce anything from the outside. I could grasp and hold, but I couldn't intake and ingest.

The gene is a curse!


	12. Chapter 12

Dr. Weir brought a few of the top commanders into the briefing room and presented us with our next big adventure – well those who were alive since I would be withered away and dead because of not being able to eat, drink… and other things. Apparently some of the Athosian kids were playing at night and had gotten lost, scaring parents and Atlantis staff alike. As much as we had our own problems to deal with, we couldn't abandon the Athosians. Besides, Teyla, their leader, was kinda hot.

"We lost the generator a short while after that," Dr. Weir said, pointing to the screen. "Several people have been saying they see a black mist in some area around as they explore."

"Oh great, call the Ghost Busters," I said, crossing my arms.

"Oh that would be cool," Sheppard said, his eyes lighting up. "As long as it's not a Slimmer I think we can handle it though."

The non-Earthlings and non-movie watchers looked at us like we were speaking Greek. "It was a movie in the '80s," I said.

"We need to contain this thing," Dr. Weir said, continuing the briefing.

"Well, good luck with that, I hope it works," I reply, sinking lower into my seat.

Dr. Weir shoots me a death look. "We must act quickly and together to find out what this is. We need to find out where it came from and how to contain it. Rodney," she turned her eyes back on me, "you will help the team."

I gave a little nod; whatever I could do before I dropped dead I am sure I could manage.

* * *

A little digging, a little research, hours of listening to my stomach protest, and I had found something that looked like an answer for the team.

"It could have something to do with the interfaces between our naqahda generators and the city," I said to Dr. Weir. "Or that the way we isolated certain systems could be causing erroneous operations in the Ancient programming."

Dr. Weir looked at me for a second. "I wouldn't have thought you believed in ghosts."

"Yes, well. I never used to, then I heard about things called Wraiths that can suck the life out of you with their hands," I looked at her. "What the hell is that?"

Dr. Weir smiles. She has to agree, that is a bit more than she had anticipated when she first got here too.

We worked on, with the Athosians helping as much as they could, and upper management would allow. So we continued working on the black mist problem, not much else we could do. I finally figured a way to track the thing, and using the life signs detector – an interesting side note: the ancients were both brilliant and stupid. Brilliant because, well look at this city, it's amazing and has so many advances other places on Earth could use. And stupid because by all accounts they were run off by the Wraith. Who sucks blood through their hands? Ya. Tragic really. But where was I? Oh yes, saving the galaxy.

Right so the life signs detector could track both human (or Athosian) life signs, and this black misty-thing. Cool, huh? I sat back and watched the little dots go along the screen. A few people came by and asked how I was doing, and if anything new was going on. I vow the next person who asks me that and has a chocolate bar in their hands will be as dead as I was eventually going to be.

"How's it going?"

I turned around and glared at Sheppard. "Peachy. The life signs detector is tracking the mass, and it seems to be going toward the different generators we are using to power up Atlantis."

"Hmm, not good than?"

"No, not really. Is that a candy bar in your hand?" I asked.

"Oh this?" he asked, holding it up for me to see it in all it's chocolate, food-like, glory. "Ya, something to hold me over until dinner."

I give him a death glare and lunge at him, not caring that I could only knock him down and still not eat the candy bar. He knew better, the nerve! I got pretty far, I have to admit, than suddenly several things happened at once: The shield device turned brown, off I think; it dropped on the floor; and I almost seemed to watch myself follow it.

My last thought before going under the wave of unconsciousness: when was dinner time, and would someone wake me for it?


End file.
